


Harry's Thoughts

by GinnyBloomPotter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Falling In Love, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 21:41:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4154007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GinnyBloomPotter/pseuds/GinnyBloomPotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a look into what I think Harry was thinking VERY deep down in The Chamber of Secrets when he thought that Ginny was dead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry's Thoughts

I ran until I finally reached the red headed angel lying broken on the soaking floor of the chamber of secrets. I couldn't help but think that maybe I was too late to save her.   
She could be dead right now and it would be all my fault.   
"Ginny, wake up. Please Ginny wake up." I cried as I shook her unresponsive body. Yet there she lay, asleep as ever.  
Yes she was Ron's sister. Yes he originally was the main reason I had talked to her. But that didn't mean I hadn't developed friendly feelings to HER. Not the Ron's little sister her but her as in Ginny Weasley.   
No, not friendly. They were more than just friendly.  
And I wouldn't be able to live if I'd lost her.  
"She won't wake" I heard a voice say. And then I was tumbling into something only nightmares and horror movies should ever include. 

Later, after I had killed the basilisk and rid the world of Tom Riddle's diary, I knelt next to Ginny, ignorant of the searing pain in my arm, favoring instead the worry I felt for the beauty lying unconscious in front of me.   
She woke, her eyes sliding open slowly to reveal the beautiful, brown orbs that had triggered a severely protective feeling inside I had only ever felt towards Ron or Hermione before. It was then that I realized.  
She looked just like my mum.  
Red hair, Gryffindor. It was all there. The only differences were the eyes and blood status, but that hardly mattered.   
My heart tore at the broken, yet blazingly determined look in her gorgeous brown eyes.   
Even more amazing, the worry she held for my life over her own recent trauma. I shook my head. My arm didn't matter. She was alive!  
Then Fawkes healed my arm and she held no reason to be concerned over my well being above her own- and yet there she sat, making quite certain I was out of harm's way before even thinking about her own pain.   
In other terms, she was downright perfect.   
At that moment I didn't care that I may have to wait years before I could act. I realized I loved her. And I'd wait however long necessary to make her mine.  
Because we would both live long enough to finally belong to one another.   
I would make sure of it.


End file.
